Flight
by Athlete Girl
Summary: Caryl one-shot, what happens after Carol leaves the prison. Post-indifference all the way.


**I've read no Caryl stories since Sunday night when the shit hit the fan. I have decided not to sit by the TV anymore to watch TWD…I'm pretty disgusted. The sighting of Michael Rooker on the set of TWD does bring me hope for at least a flashback of my beloved Merle but from now on Sunday nights I'll play D&D and I'll watch TWD on demand at my leisure….and faithfully read the comic as I should. **

**I love the 'Post Indifference' citations – keep it up fanfiction writers!**

Flight

_Acorns. They're not just for breakfast anymore_ thought Carol wryly. She filled her bag quickly and surveyed the woods. _Clear for now. Looks like I've earned another night with Danielle Steele._

She made her way to the small house, knife in hand, and checked the car to make sure it was loaded in case she had to make a quick exit. The sun was almost completely down now and night sounds began to emanate from the woods. She entered the house and began to take the caps of the acorns, processing the nuts by boiling them, running them through the hand crank coffee mill, and boiling the grounds again to remove the bitterness. She laid the ground up nuts on a towel to pull the excess water out of them, then opened a can of warm strawberry soda. _Another night at the Ritz _she thought as she filled a bowl by light of the camp stove flame.

When she heard a horned owl hoot in the tree outside she put a pencil mark on the yellowing kitchen calendar. There were thirteen marks in total.

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Daryl surveyed the group warily. "The fuck ya mean 'she's not with us anymore'?" he growled at Rick. Rick rocked side to side, shifting his body weight rhythmically as he peered at Daryl. "Carol killed Dave and Karen. She can't be trusted anymore." Daryl looked around the room in disbelief. He couldn't believe that everyone else was looking down at the floor. "Carol never killed nobody," said Daryl emphatically. Rick rubbed the back of his neck. "She confessed Daryl. She told me I'd just have to accept it, that she had done it to contain the contagion. She showed no remorse. I can't have her in the group anymore."

Daryl slowly approached Rick and stopped a foot away. "So y'all voted without me and 'Chonne?" he seethed. Rick straightened and looked Daryl in the eye. "It didn't go to a vote," said Rick. "I went on a run with Carol and I made the decision then. I helped her pack up a car and we went our separate ways. She didn't act like she had any regrets."

Daryl glared at Rick, trying to process this information. "What about her kids Rick?" Daryl asked, his voice growing louder. Rick bristled. "She doesn't have any children, DARYL. Any kids that are here will be cared for." Daryl closed the gap in one stride and chest bumped Rick, his face in Rick's. "Like the way ya took care of Judith and Carl when you spent six months being nuts Rick? Oh wait, that was Carol wasn't it? Carol feedin' that baby, Carol rockin' that baby, Carol changing that baby. Carol stayin' up with that baby every time she was sick? Carol makin' a hard call to make sure your baby don't end up with whatever shit is killin' people around here. And you don't think she can be TRUSTED anymore?"

Daryl gave Rick a soft shove, enough to push him off balance, then looked around the room. His lip turned up in a one-sided sneer. "Guess I can't be trusted neither," he said, and went upstairs to the perch to pack.

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Daryl revved the engine at the gate. All things considered the bike was running well. It was the only physical thing he had left of Merle, except maybe the blue eyes they shared. The class ring that he found in Merle's pocket when he put him down had turned out to be Beth's and Daryl had returned it to her without question, the mystery of why she couldn't feel emotion after Merle's death solved. _What would Merle have done today?_ he thought, then he suppressed a snort when the mental image of Merle busting Rick in the face popped up in his mind. It was a short-lived pleasure because Rick was approaching him as he waited for the gate to open.

"Daryl, I don't know which way she went after she got out of the subdivision," Rick said. "I never saw her in the rearview mirror." Daryl nodded, expressionless. Rick scratched his head, meeting Daryl's glare. He sighed. "When ya comin back?" he asked tiredly. Daryl shrugged. Carl was starting to pull the gate open and he kicked the kickstand up. He looked at Rick one last time. "If I find her?" he asked and Rick nodded. "I won't," he replied and gunned the throttle to take him through the gate.

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"Shit, shit!" muttered Carol as she tried to staunch the bleeding while she drove. Her knife had gone right through that walker's face and the stumbling afterwards had led to her stabbing her own leg. _I may die tonigh_t she thought and was mildly surprised that the thought didn't faze her in the least. _I've earned my right to die as a warrior. I'll be proud if this is how I go out _she thought. _But I won't become one of them. I'll end it while I'm dying. Something that T-dog didn't get the chance to do._ She smiled briefly thinking of the man who gave his life for hers. She marveled at how the ZA had allowed her to see the beauty in truly beautiful people. The most beautiful one had been her best friend Daryl. She wasn't sure she could make it without him. It was like trying to give up water. _Well, if I can't do it, I have the final solution_ she thought as she looked at the gun on the passenger seat.

She mashed her tank top onto the wound and kept driving. Soon she had her bearings. She knew where she'd go.

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Daryl wiped the road dust off of his face and took a long pull of water from his bottle. The leaves had been falling and covering up tracks, but they had created a lot of dust. He looked at the bookshelf in the small house. He was sure Carol had been here. There was an obvious spot where books had been recently removed, the kitchen had been recently used for cooking, and he found some doodles on paper in the living room. He imagined her sitting with her back against the wall under the window, riding out the night with a penlight, a novel and pen and paper.

He frowned at the doodles. _I love my knife._ _I love these boots. I love these boots. I want two pairs of these boots. These boots help me fight. I am strong. I am alive. I will survive. I will survive to find others…. I love these boots. I love these boots._ She seemed to be chanting, like a mantra. Affirmations she had called them, he remembered now. Positive statements to promote a positive state of mind. _I will survive to find others._ That's where she had lost her momentum, she had to go back to the boots to be positive. He snorted in anger. In small letters at the bottom of the page he read _I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. How can I do this without him? Daryl. _She had tried to cross it out but the pen ran off the page, she must have been spooked.

He was on the right trail.

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_Fourteen days_ she thought proudly. She regarded the small ranger station with a smile. _I always knew this place was valuable._ They had seen it on runs when they were casing the houses on the hill and she always wanted to stop there but had been voted down. And now she had survived there fourteen days. The negative was that there weren't many houses and stores that hadn't already been searched in the area. But the positives were that there was plenty of fresh water thanks to a stream behind the station, lots of survivalist gear including small propane tanks and a chopped wood supply, and a great view all around to detect human and walker threats quickly.

The sweat dripped off of her brow and she limped as best as she could with the full water bucket. She had at least a week's work of water banked in the station and had boiled at least a quarter of it. She had caught a few fish in the beginning but they now seemed to have gone somewhere else with the advent of colder weather. And she had….acorns. She had found some jerky and snack foods in the station but had gone through that quickly. The peanuts had been stale and heavenly . But now with acorns….good thing she still had all that soda….

She made herself busy outdoors, always keeping an eye out. She needed to reinforce the station with fencing or traps but didn't know where to start. This would be her challenge. Unless she was run out by another herd or by humans or got sick or….suddenly it all seemed impossible and she was tired. She wiped her forehead and while her guard was down an image of Sophia smiling at her flashed unbidden in her mind. Carol dropped to her knees, sobbing. "Stop," she pleaded. She didn't know who she was even asking.

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She bent over, sweat dripping off of her face. She jumped into the pool nude, cleansing her spirit and soul. She didn't worry about soap or shampoo, those were luxuries she couldn't afford. She had to watch for walkers. She leapt out and pulled her dirty clothes back on. When she found a compound she would revel in clean clothes. _And friends. The warmth of friends._

_And just maybe….she couldn't even risk her heart to think of it._

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She woke up suddenly, the romance novel in her lap. _How could I have fallen asleep?_ She shook herself and peeped through the lookout. No walkers. She had slept through the night, the most dangerous time of all to sleep. _ No time to cry over spilled milk, best to get busy. _She thought of Daryl coming through the gates with a handful of rabbits then silently watching her as she fileted the meat. She thought of the silent exchanges she had come to take for granted. Several times a day they would talk without talking, the others watching in amazement as they communicated nonverbally. They always gravitated to each other. _More than friends._

She thought of the close call she had a few days ago, seeing the Governor's vehicle go by as she foraged in woods at the bottom of the hill. Almost coming face to face with distilled evil. Daryl would explode into flame to know how close she had come to being spotted, what could have happened.

She began to wonder. What if she found no one? What if other than evil there was the prison or nothing? She looked at the gun. There was always a solution.

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She swore as she checked the snares. Empty. She hung her head then gritted her teeth and she knew she had set them up wrong. She looked up at the tree limbs reaching naked for the sky. The smell of fallen leaves wafted around her. "OK," she said. She held the crucifix around her neck. "I believe you Hershel. He will provide."

She stood in front of the station, her car hidden from view behind it. Her body tensed as she heard the sound of machinery. Then she realized it was the sound of a motorcycle.

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As night fell Daryl approached slowly. He saw her car then he spotted her. He slowed to a halt in front of the station and he got off the bike.

He pulled the key from the bike and dismounted, not taking his eyes off of her. She returned his gaze levelly. They regarded each other wordlessly for a long moment. "Well you should come on in," she said finally.

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He followed her into the station. She had carefully blockaded all entry points and outfitted the place with gear for foraging and defense. As she moved through the office he appraised her. She had lost a lot of weight and she was limping. She was clean but her clothes hung off of her, tattered and dirty. Her chin was held high as she led him back into a kitchenette where she had propane tanks stacked to fuel a small camp stove. He hadn't yet admitted to himself how much he missed her and the pain stabbed his heart, sharp and acute.

She sat down at a round table and looked at him. "Why are you here?" she asked softly. Daryl shifted his crossbow onto his back. "I wanna bring ya back. Have a meeting and talk about it," he said. She smiled at him but the smile didn't touch her eyes. "Tyreese will kill me the minute I step foot in the prison," she said softly. "And if he doesn't Rick may." Daryl looked down at the floor for a moment then met her eyes. "Tyreese didn't make it back," he said. "And I'll handle Rick."

Carol shook her head. "I can't live that way Daryl, and neither could you," she said softly. "Having people thinking I'm a murderer. Not being able to regain their trust. I AM a murderer. I don't regret it. I did what I did for a good reason. It just…..it didn't work." His nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. Rick had been right, she had done it and she wasn't remorseful. "What happened?" he asked.

Carol sighed deeply, dropping her head. "I knew it had to be done to stop the outbreak. I went up there alone to look in on them. I knew I was going to do it. Dave was dying, lying there choking in his own fluids with a raging fever. There was no way he was going to make it so I ended his suffering with a cut to the back of his neck. I severed his spine and then I took out his brain."

Daryl's body shifted to turn sideways but he kept his eyes on her. It was the stance he would take to either shoot her or flee and she couldn't blame him if he did either. She continued, "Karen was very sick but she wasn't as bad as Dave. I sat on the side of her bunk, she was shaking with fever and chills and was coughing. She may have survived it. She may have survived it Daryl."

"I gave her some water because she was so thirsty. Then I took out her brain. She never saw it coming. I drug the bodies out to the roof and burned them to destroy the virus. But the virus had already spread, I was too late. Too late to save them. To save all of us. And now I'm a murderer."

Daryl began to pace, trying to process this. In a million years he would have never thought that this loving woman could murder unapologetically. Rick was right, something had shifted in her, hardened in her. "I told Rick that I was done making decisions for the group," she said levelly. "But at that point his decision was made." Daryl walked towards her until only the table separated them. He poked his forefinger onto the table for balance as he leaned closer. "If ya could, would ya take it back?" he asked, his eyes searching hers. She looked into the eyes of her friend, her more than friend. Her chin trembled momentarily then she stilled herself. "I don't know," she said softly. "I've asked myself everyday since. And I don't know."

Daryl saw the tears build in her eyes. The woman he knew was in there, surrounded by a hardened shell. She hadn't disappeared. A weight lifted off of his shoulders and he nodded at her. She looked up at him, her face soft and hopeful. "My girls?" she asked. "Hershel? Glen?" Daryl looked at the floor and cleared his throat softly. "Glen is OK," he said softly. Carol covered her mouth, then stood up and left the room.

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He checked the perimeter as best as he could in the failing light. He had to admit that the place had potential but he was concerned about her food supply. _Maybe she had stuff hidden away somewhere_ he thought.

When he came in she had pulled herself together. "Dinner?" she asked and he nodded. He rummaged around the office, taking note of the things she had collected until she brought him a bowl. A bowl of what looked like purple rice. She turned to tuck herself into a comfortable chair while he sniffed it. "The fuck is this?" he asked and she replied, "Food." He took a bite and gagged. It was semi-hard chips of white shit in a sickly sweet, sticky purple sauce. She however was shoveling it. "L'ecrou a la raisin" she said in passable French. He looked at her questioningly. "Acorns in boiled grape soda," she answered, not meeting his eye.

"This is what ya fuckin' eatin'?" spit Daryl. He slammed the bowl down on a desk. "When's the last time ya had meat?" She shrugged. "I caught two fish a couple weeks ago. Otherwise it's been French fare. It's carbs so there's energy in it but we might want to separate for night watch because it gets me pretty gassy." She couldn't help but laugh at her own joke. It was the end of the world right?

"This is why ya look like a fuckin' stick then," said Daryl contemptuously. "Tomorrow ya learn snares. Ain't no McDonalds around no more and ya ain't eatin' this shit. I sure as hell ain't eatin' it." Carol polished off her bowl silently and took his. On her way back to the kitchenette she said, "I guess the prison does seem like McDonalds compared to this. But I did this on my own and it's kept me alive. So far." Her eyes met his and she went back to put plastic wrap on his unfinished bowl. It would be her breakfast.

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The next day was spent setting snares and hunting small game. Daryl taught her some of his tricks for squirrel hunting and they were able to get four squirrels by late afternoon. They would check the snares in the morning. Daryl marched her back to the ranger station and grilled the skinned squirrels. He put three on her plate. "Daryl," she protested but he wouldn't hear it. "Eat it," he said past a mouthful of meat and once she took a bite she couldn't stop. She hadn't realized how truly hungry she had been in the last month. She even sucked the bones, earning a rare smile from Daryl.

After dinner she sighed drowsily. It was so nice to have Daryl's company, to be able to let her guard down for a couple hours at a time. After dinner he sat in the comfortable chair in the office to smoke a cigarette and she plunked down on the floor beside him and leaned her head into his knee. They sat in companionable silence for a while and she closed her eyes, turning her head to rest her forehead against him. There was a hole worn in his pants and they were crusted with mud. She knew that her own clothes were in bad shape. "Tomorrow is laundry," she stated and he grunted in reply. She was too afraid to ask how long he was staying. Right now she was just going to savor him.

He was twiddling something with the long fingers of his left hand and studying it as he smoked. "What is that?" she asked. He took a pull on his cigarette and slowly blew the smoke out. "Piece a jasper. Biggest one I ever found. Me and 'Chonne found it in the woods after we lost the car on our run." He handed it to her and she studied it. It was green with black veins running through it. _Me and Chonne_ she thought sadly. She had lost her chance for his heart. _What did I expect? Like I can compare to her? They're two warriors and I'm a housewife._

"It's beautiful, unique," Carol said, handing it back to him. "It must remind you of her." Daryl didn't take the stone. "Brought it for you," he said, finishing off his cigarette then standing up to throw the butt outside. "I'll take night watch."

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There was a limited supply of soap at the station and Carol woke up excited to use it. Daryl had insisted on taking watch so she got up at first light to relieve him. "Give me your clothes," she said, giggling when he raised his eyebrows at her. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" he asked. She looked at him coquettishly. "I have seen a grown man naked before," she quipped and thoroughly enjoyed the blush that bloomed up his neck. "Oh Daryl, go in the bathroom, take them off and throw them out in the hallway," she snickered. "I'm going down to the creek with the soap. I'll leave a bar there so you can clean up after you sleep." Daryl snorted but obediently went into the bathroom and threw his clothes into the hallway.

She made her way to the stream in a giddy mood. She scouted the area then took her shoes and socks off and rolled up her pants to get the clothes washed. She did the best she could with the cool water and bar soap then rinsed them thoroughly and wrung them out. She piled them on a flat rock and scouted again. Looked pretty clear. She shucked her clothes and waded into the pool with them to scrub them too. She looked at the sky and smiled, it was a beautiful day and she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She scrubbed her hair and skin with the soap then emerged to wrap the towel that she had brought around her. She slid on her boots, picked up the wet laundry and went back to the station to hang the clothes.

She entered quietly, not wanting to wake Daryl. He was sleeping in the office and she frowned, why didn't he go in the back where it was quieter and there was more privacy? He had put some less dirty clothes, probably his last pair. She walked back to the kitchenette and hummed to herself as she hung clothes wherever she could find space. Her back was to the doorway when his voice startled her. "Walkin' around half naked without a weapon?" he accused. "Ain't smart." She hung the last pair of socks and turned to look at him. She pulled the ends of the towel further apart at her hip to reveal that underneath she wore her belt with her knife attached. Daryl felt his face flush and his dick jump. Her skin was smooth and creamy and she had a mischievous smile for him. He grunted then mumbled something and made a show of looking around for coffee.

"You should go back to sleep," she said softly. "You've only had a few hours." Daryl came up with a small pot and a can of coffee. "M alright," he said, avoiding looking at her. "You can take night watch though." She nodded. "OK," she said. She walked to the door and turned to look at him. "Daryl?" she asked. He looked up at her and she said, "How long are you going to stay?" She tried to keep her voice steady. He turned back to his coffee and shrugged. "Ain't decided," he said. "Right now ya can't even catch y'own meat." She nodded and walked to the storeroom where the ranger uniforms were kept. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. She had at least one more day.

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He made her set and reset snares until she had it memorized. They had caught two rabbits overnight but a walker had gotten to one. Daryl killed it and threw the remains of the rabbit in the opposite direction from the station. He worked with her shooting squirrels with the .22 rifle that Rick had given her. She didn't get one but she'd gotten close several times. With a little practice she'd be set. _Then there's no reason for me to be here_ he thought. He didn't want to leave. He glanced at Carol, she was skinning the rabbit with her knife, wearing the oversized rangers uniform. She was frowning in concentration and his heart swelled against his will. He couldn't leave her. _I'm home when I'm with her._

That night she talked up a storm, telling him about the last month of running, the first cabin she inhabited, the owl that was her calendar there, the close call with the governor. How there was a whole bookshelf of books to read. She wrinkled her nose as she gestured to the bookshelf in the ranger station. The books were all identification guides and natural history of the local ecosystems. He chuckled because he'd much rather read those than any romance book.

They turned the lanterns off to save batteries and sat in the office, the full moon coming in from the window she un-shuddered for light. She sat across from him, tracking the glow of his cigarette. She smiled sadly at her hands folded in her lap. She was capable of getting meat now. His duty to her was done. He'd go back to the prison and she'd be alone again and she dreaded the moments to come, of her watching him drive away, of the fading sound of the motorcycle giving way to silence. She took a long breath. If she had learned anything, it was that facing her fear head on was easier to handle than having it steamroll her while she hid from it.

"Are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked, not looking up from her lap. The tears dripped off of her face now but her voice was steady. He shook his head silently and she saw it from the corner of her eye. There was a long silence then she said, "You're the best friend I've ever had. But I think the longer I'm with you the harder it will be to….to be without you. Can you understand that?" He studied her, his eyes flitting to her face then her hands. She waited but he didn't answer. Eventually she wiped her nose with her shirt and wiped the tears off of her face. She might as well start night watch. She moved to get up.

"May not leave," he rumbled. Her head snapped around to look at him. He returned her gaze with serious eyes. She replied, "But you have to go back to the prison. They need you. You've done so much to make it livable," she said. "All of our family is there." His eyes didn't break from hers. "Not all of it," he stated. She felt the tears start again. She had to be honest with him and she knew that if he had any inclination to leave that her confession would send him to that decision.

"I need to be honest with you," she said, looking off unfocused into the corner. He nodded slightly and she said, "You are my best friend but you need to know that I have other feelings for you Daryl. Feelings you may not share. They may not affect us today or tomorrow. But to see you with someone else in the future….at one time I thought I could take it but now that I truly understand my feelings I know that's no longer true. The last few days have proved it to me." She looked him in the eye as she trembled with fear. "If you don't feel the same way I think you should go so we can part as friends. So we can have positive memories."

Daryl instinctively backed his upper body against the backrest. He was trying to process the fact that Carol felt the same way that he felt. She knew that to go on together meant to risk their precious friendship and that to part meant to never see each other again. She was observing him and his eyes darted over her face. She wasn't crying but she grimaced as she saw the stiffness of his body. Her chin tilted up but she didn't break her gaze.

Daryl's chest heaved with a few quick breaths and he nodded almost imperceptibly. She exhaled slowly and she smiled tearfully. "You're staying?" she asked. He looked down and nodded. "Yeah," he said. She put her hand over her mouth and she smiled shakily. "OK," she breathed, and he answered her with half a sheepish smile. He shifted and his face turned serious. "But there's one thing that's gotta happen for me ta stay." Carol's eyes widened and she nodded cautiously. "I'm throwin' out that fuckin' grape soda," he said, and she laughed through her tears as she moved forward to perch in his lap.

**Please read and review – the reviews have been awfully scant lately **


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